Puppet
by Lily Red Dragon
Summary: At the end of it all she discovered, not without wounds, that she'd always been a puppet and that's what she was doomed to be. Forever
As the music starts, a girl steps on the stage. Her dress is white and her skin is so pale it almost melts with the snowy fabric.

Her feet, clad in white pointe shoes, touch the wooden boards without so much as a sound. Her eyes are closed as she bows to an inexistent audience, artificial light shining on her lean figure.

 _Welcome to my world that's painted with sadness: there's no light of sun, here you can't hear any sound at all, here I'm waiting silently for you, father. Why were you so cruel, why'd you leave Mary alone?_

One step after the other, she dances to the sound of a music box, her eyes closed, her mouth sealed.

She stumbles forward, surrounded by darkness, tries to reach for something – someone – to give her support, but she grasps thin air and nothing more.

As she falls, a tear falls with her, one single drop of sadness that shatters soundlessly on the ground. Just like fine crystal would.

She lies motionless on the wood that was under her feet mere seconds ago. How sad it is.

She's alone, she's been abandoned, and the emptiness of the stage is a grim reminder.

 _Please take me away, I desperately promise to be a good girl, to be worthy of your love. I don't need the paintbooks, the dolls and the dresses, just tell me why you've left your pictures and gone._

Her motions become frantic, she steps forward again, but flinches and closes in on herself, as if she's been hurt. She dances quickly to a melody that's still slow, her chest heavy and her heart aching.

She doesn't know who she's dancing for, she just keeps on going, she'll keep going until she won't be able to anymore, because she can't do anything else.

Isn't it sad? But no one's there to pity her, because her audience doesn't exist and her only spectator is darkness.

 _Who are you, stranger with a red rose in your hand? I liked you from the first sight, I wanna be your friend, let's play. I've never asked for this place that's called my home, but hope you will be staying with me until the end._

Another girl steps on the stage with light feet. She seems slightly older and her red eyes burn with life, as bright as her dress.

The girl with the blond hair walks to her, curiosity in her green irises and wonder at this new character in the story.

It's a person, that tears the black air apart with her gentle smile. Both are insecure, both are in a place that's unfamiliar in more than a way.

Their hands touch and it's like at first sight. They dance in one another's embrace, alone together in a world that doesn't seem so sad anymore, with a promise to protect and cherish and stay.

Red's hands are warm on White's body, they are human and caring and finally something real in a world that resembled a nightmare.

And the girls have laughs and a smile on their lips, as the blonde one holds the other with the same need and hope a shipwreck victim would cling to the last floating wooden board.

She's warm and brilliant and how can a little lost moth not try to stay close to the flame of such a beautiful burning candle?

 _Please don't be scared of me, I'm a good girl, I just want to be with you to forget my sorrow. I'm tired of being the puppet of this world. Oh, tell me, why do you wanna go with this man?_

It's one false step and the girl in red jumps away from the other, almost as if she'd gotten too close to a flame that's not her own.

White's flame is cold and icy, surely enough to scare Red, surely enough to be left alone again. Because it's always her fault, right?

The white girl is pleading, reaching forward, but there's nothing to grasp anymore. Tears start streaming down her face, her hands going to her hair in a desperate attempt at keeping her voice at bay. She tries not to choke on words the other won't hear.

Red is leaving, backing away from her with horror painted on her oh-so-gentle features, vanishing like everyone else before her. It's so sad, to see someone go with the knowledge there won't be another chance to meet, don't you think? It makes the heart heavy they say.

And a tall young man with lilac eyes and matching hair is the one who takes Red in his arms, protecting and holding her the same way White wanted to be held, secure in the embrace of the other girl.

People come and people go, people have and people steal, and often other people have what we'd like to have for ourselves.

 _Is he your true knight in the shining armor, who'll sacrifice himself just for your sake with no fear? But then, why does he look like the one who created this gallery and pictures, that who gave me my birth?_

He dances with Red, seemingly blind to White's desperate attempts at taking her back. But the blond girl's sadness soon morphs into rage, white like herself, but burning brightly.

So she stops the man's movements, grabbing Red by the wrist and tearing her away from him. Because she always had everything, except what she really wanted and now she won't let go, not without a fight.

She suddenly notices the pointed glare Lilac is directing at her, but she can't stop him from grabbing her waist and pressing her close to his chest, just to almost drop her on the ground.

A breath, a moment of stillness is all that separates her from the cold. But his eyes, they have her unmoving, still under the scrutiny of familiar irises. She reaches up and barely manages to brush her fingertips on his cheek, before being thrown far, far away from him.

She feels the void slowly creeping up, agonizingly so even, up her spine, her neck, insinuating itself in the openings of her ribcage to reach her heart.

 _My tears are falling, why is it so painful? I did nothing wrong, so why do you hate me so much? This burning canvas became your cruel answer and now flames unsparingly kiss me goodnight._

White can't help but cry as Lilac claims Red for himself, possessively but tenderly at the same time.

She feels helpless, lonely again, as she slowly becomes invisible to the dancing pair.

And she feels like her skin is burning up, in all the paces Red touched and in all the places that have been touched by Lilac. Even the ones left untouched – her lips – spark with heat.

And they keep on dancing, content with one another. How sad for poor White, left to burn in the dark.

 _Welcome to her world that's lying in ashes: there's a sea of fire, there is no way to run at all. She only wanted to be with her father, but little Mary's melting in her abyss alone._

Lilac and Red bow to the same empty seats, hand in hand, forgetful of their companion. And the curtain closes on a deafening silence, with only two hearts left beating.


End file.
